A. Zavarelli - Stutter (Bleeding Hearts Book 2)

by Unknown

  “Don’t worry.” Nicole grinned as she walked towards the door. “I wouldn’t allow that to happen.”

  She opened the door, and my mouth fell open when I saw who was standing on the other side.

  “Norma?”

  “Surprise!” she threw her hands up in the air.

  I was a little shocked when she ran over and hugged me like her life depended on it. We were still trying to figure out how this whole being sober relationship worked between us. There were tears in her eyes when she pulled away and held me at arm’s length. “My God, Brighton, you look so beautiful. That boy won’t know what hit him when he sees you walking down the aisle.”

  “I can’t believe you came,” I stammered.

  Great, now my eyes were filling with tears too. The littlest things set me off these days.

  “Ryland arranged it,” she said. “He wanted you to have your family here.”

  Although she didn’t mean to, her words brought a dark cloud into the room. I swallowed and looked away. Because even though Norma was there, Brayden wasn’t. And that hurt.

  “He invited Brayden too,” Nicole said softly. “Just so you know.”

  “He did?”

  I was full on crying now. I just gave into it.

  “Yes,” Norma answered for her. “I tried to talk him into coming too. I’m sorry, Brighton, but you know he’s stubborn as hell.”

  “I know.” I nodded.

  It was for the best he wasn’t going to be here if that was his attitude. I didn’t need anyone trying to ruin our special day. But I still couldn’t believe Ryland had extended the olive branch. I was shocked, and it only made me want to marry him more.

  Norma reached out and handed me a little blue box. “Ryland wanted me to give you this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Well, open it and see.” She grinned. “I’m guessing it’s some kind of jewelry from the looks of it.”

  I reached down and opened the lid to find a white gold necklace with what appeared to be a heart wave. The paper beneath it confirmed it.

  “Oh my God.” I clasped a hand over my mouth. “He had this custom made for me. It’s his heart beat.”

  “What does the paper say?” Nicole tried to peek over my shoulder.

  “It says, keep this close to your heart, Brighton, so we’ll never be out of sync.”

  “Wow.” Nicole blubbered. “That is so sweet. And so unlike Ryland.”

  “I know.” I choked out a laugh between sobs.

  “I think you found yourself a keeper,” Norma butted in.

  “I think so too.” I wiped away my tears. “Let’s make me pretty so I can go and marry him.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Ryland

  Had you asked me six years ago if I’d ever seen myself in this position, I would’ve laughed you right out of the frigging building.

  Me? Getting married.

  Abso-fucking-lutely not.

  I had one thing on my mind then, and that was revenge. How sweet it would taste, how good it’d feel. I didn’t want any distractions.

  But when I took Brighton Valentine for the first time, I completely underestimated how sweet she’d taste. How good she’d feel. Or how she would crawl so deep under my skin I’d never see straight again.

  She ruined me. No doubt about it.

  And yet, when I caught sight of her walking down the aisle towards me-a vision in white-I was prepared to fork over heart and soul. She could have what was left of them, until death parted us, because for me there was no other option. If I could’ve included an agreement that stipulated she wasn’t allowed to give them back, I would have. But we all know how the last agreement ended between us.

  Still. She was mine, always would be.

  I practiced breathing, which I’d briefly forgotten, as my eyes roamed over my bride. Her hair had been kissed from the sun during our time here. A mixture of strawberry and gold, it fell over her shoulder in soft waves. All I could think about was running my hands through it and mussing it up. She gave me a nervous smile. The one she usually wore when she was on her knees for me, doing my bidding. My cock jumped in excitement, and I had to tell him to settle down. This was not the time or place.

  I couldn’t believe this little sweet was going to be all mine. After everything, she’d still have me. She maintained her stance that we were cut from the same cloth. Insisted she harbored just as much darkness as I did. She was wrong.

  Brighton was all light. Everything pure and good and untainted, and I got high on her every time I tasted that nectar. How could I have ever thought I’d tire of her? That I could give her up when it was all over?

  I was a fool.

  She reached the end of the aisle and stood beside me. She’d never looked more beautiful than when she came to me willingly. Her eyes were bright and big and so alive it sent all the blood to my southerly regions. There was little choice but to lean in and steal a kiss. The officiant made a disapproving noise, and I kissed her harder. He could fuck right off.

  “Ryland.” Brighton giggled against my lips before she pulled away. Her cheeks were tinted pink in embarrassment.

  Oh how I loved that.

  The officiant did his spiel, and I heard not a lick of it. My eyes were zeroed in on my girl, impatiently awaiting that pivotal moment. In the interim, I found myself eye-fucking her and looking for tells. Did she really want to do this? Was she going to run screaming at any moment?

  There weren’t any big red flags, but the fear was still there regardless. It would be until the man said those words I desperately needed to hear. Upon further observation, Brighton appeared light and happy. Relaxed. Feet firmly planted in place. I was the luckiest prick on the planet if she went through with this.

  She hadn’t made a big production of it, which I was quietly grateful for. I would’ve given her whatever she wanted, be it gold confetti or horse-drawn carriages. But frankly, I wanted to get it over with so we could spend the rest of our life together. Also of equal importance-commencing the honeymoon.

  The word flooded my mind with images. No need to get into the nitty gritty here, but I’ll tell you they were good. The fact I’d been inside of her incessantly over the last week did little to quell the burning in my gut. This island had done her good. Pregnancy glow in full swing, she was more radiant than I even deemed myself worthy of. That was a given, of course.

  She’d chosen an ivory lace dress. How fitting. My sly little fox knew how much I loved the color on her. On point, her lashes fluttered as a mischievous smile lit up her face. I wondered if she had any notion what was bouncing around my brain. Perhaps she was having her own dirty little thoughts. I had corrupted her after all.

  “Ryland.” Her eyes danced with laughter as she nudged me in the side.

  Oh, right.

  I redirected my attention to the officiant who shot me a chafed look before repeating himself. I recited the words he told me to like a good little minion, unaware of what they even were. It was of little consequence. There were no words somebody else could write that’d ever pronounce my love for Brighton. My promises to her.

  Left to my own devices, I’d voice in no uncertain terms the debauchery we’d be getting up to for the rest of our lives. How she’d be swollen with my children again and again until she forbade me from doing so. There could’ve been gallant paragraphs uttered about how I’d forfeit my life before ever allowing her harm. How I’d never stray or break a promise to her again. Lastly, I most certainly wouldn’t touch a single hair on her brother’s cuntish head. But I knew Brighton would want the carefully constructed words in front of our friends. The supplementary vows could be whispered later when I was deep inside of her.

  We got to the part with the rings, and I grinned when panic flashed across her face. She stared down at the little white pillow with parted lips, only now realizing there wasn’t one for me. I milked it out a few seconds longer than necessary so my evil counterpart could watch her blush again.

&nbs
p; Hard as a rock in my trousers, I pompously displayed my hand. The warmth of her fingers traced over the fresh tattoo and tears welled in her eyes.

  “My heartbeat?” she squeaked.

  I nodded and squeezed her hands in mine.

  “Oh, God,” she blubbered to the officiant. “I’m going to lose it, so you better wrap this up.”

  He smiled and said the words I never thought I’d hear. We were now husband and wife.

  “I love you.” I smashed my lips against hers and tasted the salt of her tears. “So fucking much.”

  “I love you too, Ryland. More than anything.”

  Fuck, yeah. No take backs, Brighton. I’m all yours.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Brighton

  “How long do you think we have to stay and keep mingling?” I asked.

  Ryland paused and shot me a worried expression. “Are you getting tired?”

  I smiled and shook my head. “No, I was just wondering when I can take my husband back to our room.”

  He laughed and continued to hold me in his arms while we moved in time to the music. “Someone’s being greedy. You know how much I like that.”

  I glanced at Matt and Nicole as they danced beside us, and I’d never seen her look happier. I hoped that it would last. I hoped that all the bumpiness was behind us now.

  Norma danced with Ted, who’d made the journey to Florida as well. It took me by surprise at first though it probably shouldn’t have. He was the closest thing Ryland had to family. My heart squeezed in my chest when I looked up into his blue eyes. He looked as at peace as I’d ever seen him and I wanted him to stay that way forever.

  Almost as if he could sense my train of thought, a dark look passed over his face.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Nothing,” he said quietly. “I’m just… happy, baby girl.”

  I nodded and swallowed down my fears. He didn’t have to say anything else because I knew his were the same. He’d told me once that happiness was fleeting, and as much as I didn’t want to believe that, I had to wonder if it was true.

  I couldn’t let any of those thoughts have real estate inside of my brain. Ryland and I had a fresh start, and I wanted to put everything else behind us.

  “Come on.” He reached down and threaded his fingers through mine. “I think we’ve mingled long enough.”

  ***

  “Brighton, tell me what’s wrong.”

  Ryland sounded worried, but he had no reason to be. I wrung my hands together and bit my lip to keep my voice from shaking. “It’s nothing. I’ll be out in just a minute."

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering for the hundredth time if this was ridiculous. I’d never worn lingerie in my life. Well, not like this anyway.

  The sheer white babydoll that looked great in the photos online only served to flaunt my growing belly, and I wondered if Ryland would even find it remotely sexy. The larger I got, the more I started to worry that at some point he would stop finding me sexy at all. I knew it was a ridiculous train of thought. I was growing a human, and my body had to change to accommodate that. But whether it was logical or not, those fears were still there.

  “Brighton,” Ryland’s voice carried from the other side of the door. “If there’s something wrong, just tell me.”

  I took a deep breath and twisted the knob.

  His eyes met mine and then trailed down my body. I realized it was silly of me to worry because right away I saw the hunger he couldn’t hide.

  “You are so fucking beautiful.” He gripped my hips in his hands and tugged me closer. My belly bumped against his and I laughed.

  “I was nervous,” I admitted.

  “Why, baby?”

  His hands smoothed up my sides and then dipped beneath the silk cups to play with my breasts. I could hardly think when he did that.

  “I just didn’t know if you would like it,” I said. “Because I’m getting bigger, and I feel weird about it.”

  “Brighton.” He burrowed into my neck and wrapped his hands around my waist to squeeze my ass. “You’re having my baby. You couldn’t be any sexier if you tried. You’re supposed to get bigger. I want you to get bigger. I want you healthy and happy. I’ll never stop thinking you’re beautiful, you only grow more so every day.”

  I reached up on my toes and pulled his lips to mine, kissing him softly. “Thank you, Ryland. For everything that you’ve done this week. For today. I can’t believe you’re my husband.”

  “Say it again,” he pleaded.

  “My husband,” I whispered, clasping his face in my hands. “My gorgeous husband.”

  “I want you to say that every time I make you come tonight,” he ordered.

  He was so serious as he said it I couldn’t help but smile and nod. Of course I would give into him. I always did.

  “Take me to bed now,” I begged.

  “Married five minutes and already acting like the boss,” he smirked.

  I shoved him on the chest and pushed him back against the bed. “Take your clothes off.”

  This time he didn’t hesitate to do my bidding. His eyes roamed over me as I positioned myself on the bed and watched him unbutton his dress shirt and kick off his pants. He was perfectly comfortable in his nakedness when he prowled towards me. But then again, he had a reason to be. He was perfect.

  He started at my feet, massaging them the way he did often now. And then he pulled them both up to kiss each instep. This was a new kink of his I was starting to see a lot of lately, but I didn’t mind since I’d just taken a shower this time. I wiggled my toes, and he sucked them into his mouth, teasing them as he watched me. Already I was soaking wet and ready for him, but that wasn’t new. I didn’t think there was much he couldn’t do with his mouth that wouldn’t get me this way.

  He kissed his way up my calves and thighs, rubbing his face against the sensitive skin until it turned pink. Even though he’d shaved this morning, he was already sporting some stubble. Since he’d discovered I was pregnant, he was much more careful in the ways he went about marking me. This was one of his new favorites. I didn’t mind at all.

  He reached the lacey white thong between my legs and gave it a tug with his teeth. It disintegrated into several scraps of material that he tossed aside without any care. Then his heavy lidded eyes descended as he prodded me with his fingers, spreading me apart for him to see. He blew out a breath, and it tickled me, but it wasn’t enough. I needed his mouth on me.

  “Ryland.” I tugged on his hair, but he didn’t budge.

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “I’m enjoying this.”

  He teased me with one finger, sliding in and out with deliberate slowness. I rocked my pelvis down to greet him, desperate for more. It wasn’t fair that he acted as though he had all the time in the world. I needed him, and I needed him now.

  “This is the first time I’m ever going to fuck you as my wife,” he said. “Let me savor it.”

  “Fine.” I pouted.

  I felt him smile against me, and then his tongue slid right up my center, exactly where I needed him. My hands tightened their grip in his hair, and I bucked against him. He groaned.

  Ryland liked it when I was rough with him, but I didn’t even mean to be. It was out of my control. He gripped my hips in his hands and rolled them in circles, helping me to grind down on his face as he lapped at me furiously.

  “Oh god oh god oh god,” I whimpered, squeezing the sheets in my fist. “Right there, oh shit!”

  The onslaught of convulsions blindsided me with a wave of dizziness that simultaneously stole my breath and left me gasping. I didn’t even have a chance to fulfill his earlier request, but he seemed to have forgotten all about it as he kissed his way up my stomach. When he reached my breasts, he paused his excursion to suck each of them into his mouth.

  “You’re getting a very filthy mouth,” he murmured against me.

  “I don’t care,” I panted.

  He grinned up at me and sat back o
n his heels, looking deep in thought for a moment.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just thinking about how I want to take you,” he said. “I always feel like I’m crushing you now.”

  “You’re not.” I reached for his hand and squeezed. “But you could take me from behind if you want.”

  He grinned down at me and stood up, pulling my hips towards the edge of the bed. “I could, but I want to look at you,” he said. “I want to see your face the first time I slide inside of you as your husband.”

  It was my turn to moan. Those words were definitely the most erotic thing he’d ever said.

  He wrapped my legs around his waist and rubbed the head of his cock against my arousal.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “I’m ready,” I agreed. “Always.”

  He sank inside of me and closed his eyes for a brief moment the way he always did when he entered me. I loved that expression, and I knew I would never get enough of it.

  “You good?” he asked as he rolled his hips inside of me.

  “So good,” I murmured.

  He leaned down and kissed me, and there was nothing frenzied about us anymore. It was unhurried and gentle. Ryland wanted to draw it out as long as he could, and I was grateful he had. I never wanted to forget this moment for all of my life.

  “I’m going to come inside you, baby,” he declared. “Come inside my fucking wife.”

  And with a roar, he did.

  Then he leaned down and kissed me with a possessive gleam in his eyes. “Mine.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ryland

  Brighton and I had been home for a little over a week. The amount of work on my desk was beyond fucking ridiculous, and I knew I’d be waist deep in it for the next two days. But the moment my email pinged from the PI in Chicago, everything else fell by the wayside. Images of Brayden filled my screen, and every vile and uncouth word I’d ever learned spewed from my mouth.

  You might wonder why I hated him so much. Besides the obvious-he’d held a gun to my head and allowed my sister to die mercilessly-the boy was nothing more than a cockroach. Back in my scheming days, Brighton wasn’t the only subject of my research. If you’d ever read the Art of War or any stratagem books for that matter, there was one very important principle you should have reaped. Know your opponent. Simple, really. Much simpler when you have the resources to fund such ventures and grease a few palms along the way. For my plan to work, I had to be well versed on the inner workings of the entire Gallo circle. Brayden included.